Title: Still Inside
Warnings: Fetish, BDSM, violence, sexual situations
Word count: ~10k
Setting: Post-s10 established relationship (no comics knowledge needed)
Summary: Spike and Buffy have been happily together for a couple of years and have been magically locked into a sex store. What to do but have a very porny kinkfest?
Author’s note: LJ hates me, so I’m trying to post this in 2 parts. Let’s hope for the best.
They’re not needed to enjoy this but, if you’re interested, here are ch. 1 of this story and the first story of this series.
A line here is a homage to the uber-sexy Aloof Rocker Kryptonite by JustTiff. It’s a WIP, but it ends in a good place!
Thanks go to TheDanishBird, Aspasia, and Eurydice for inspiring these stories with their prompts/ideas, to the brilliant Bookishy and Aspasia for beta-reading this, and to the fabulous Pixiecorn for the sexy banner! ♥ Also, I love any kind of feedback, criticism included. Go nuts, if you’re so inclined, and happy reading. >:)
Buffy took a deep breath, looking at herself in the tiny mirror of the store toilet. She’d done up her makeup, adding eyeliner and more lipstick—it had faded earlier, probably giving Spike’s penis a bit of its colour—to play the bad girl.
Just thinking of the words sent a little shudder down her spine, making her fingers tingle. After talking more to ensure nothing would make her think of her own Watcher, they’d decided to get dressed separately, so they could better sink into their parts.
She swallowed as she looked down at herself, blushing already. She’d definitely found the right clothes to go with his fantasy. She looked hot. She’d found a tiny little top, blood-red, that barely covered her boobs and let a bit of bra peek through; a pleated black-and-red skirt, so short it barely covered her ass while standing, let alone if she bent an inch; and then she wore her own chunky-heeled ankle boots. The stupidly small mirror didn’t let her check her full figure, but she knew she looked edible, and that Spike would have a hard time keeping his composure.
Which was perfectly fine by her. When they’d talked about her playing a brat, about her goading him into really giving it to her, he’d growled, looking one second from biting her and jumping her then and there. But then he’d smirked, licked his lips in that wildly sexy way of his, and told her that he’d enjoy punishing her hard enough to make her submit to him.
She bit her lip, feeling wetness already slither past her lips. God, should she wipe herself clean again? She’d gone with his stupid suggestion and picked a pair of crotchless panties, and yeah, while no slayer would ever go patrolling in this ridiculous get-up, it was beyond sexy for roleplaying.
She reached towards the toilet paper, then paused; a slutty slayer would get hot during patrol, right? The fact that she was one dirty thought away from wetting her thighs worked just fine for the scene.
‘A slutty slayer’, yeah, a sarcastic, British-sounding voice said. As if you didn’t get wet every time you go out there.
Buffy bit her lip some more, then took another deep breath and flipped her hair back. She was an adult woman, and it was totally fine to get hot when fighting. In fact, it was more than fine! It was her damn right as a slayer.
She latched onto that thought, which fit her role perfectly. Really, she was a powerful woman: how could she not be affected by her strength over vamps and demons? It made her thrill, sending shivers of anticipation for the fight and the win down her spine, making her quiver with the sense of control it gave her to win, over and over again, to best her opponents. Of course it’d make her eager to blow off steam, and of course she’d love wearing impractical clothes while doing so; it only highlighted the way she was, in the end, better than the monsters.
Plus, it was just fun to see the vamps’ eyes widen every time she gave a high kick.
Her face flushed, not needing to do much imagining there. It had only happened on recent patrols, no more than three times, but it had always driven Spike completely wild—especially because he was the reason she’d been pantiless in the first place.
So yeah, she was wearing crotchless lace panties, a gravity-defying push-up bra, and a grin of over-confidence. She was ready.
Raising her chin, she opened the door and sauntered in, looking at the sex toys around her and ignoring the tingle that screamed vampire! coming from behind the counter.
“Neat place,” she said airily.
“You’re late.” The vampire’s voice was low, rumbly, and not amused.
She ignored the shiver of pleasure that trailed up and down her body and continued to saunter around the place, without looking in his direction. “I had better things to do,” she said, grinning. “Say, that looks fun…” She’d found a particularly huge dildo. It looked scary, but she had to wonder whether Spike would like it up his—
The vampire growled and she grinned over her shoulder. He was sitting behind the counter and wearing a soft-looking black leather coat over a red shirt, a deliciously bad-boy combo when coupled with his bleached hair. Face and shoulders tight with tension, he clasped his hands in front of him, visibly working hard to keep his demon down.
“Someone’s cranky,” she sing-songed.
“Someone wants to get punished even more,” he said darkly, eyeing her with considerable hunger. “You’re clearly hellbent on defying the rules of the Council. You know why you’ve been called here.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, turning her attention back to the toys. “You’re a special division of the Council. Special Slayer Punishing Division, and let me tell you how much I’m quaking in my boots at that name.”
“No, I can tell the quaking is happening somewhere else entirely.”
She turned to look at him then, affronted, but he was smirking. The jerk. “Look, I know who you are. A vampire restricted through magic by the Council, chosen specifically for this division.” (This part she’d wanted herself, because she loved the idea of him punishing her for being a bad slayer with his fangs.) “But that magic makes you harmless, so why don’t you—”
“Oh, no,” he interrupted her with a purr. She swallowed as he stood and circled the counter, his eyes never leaving her. “It only stops me from killing you, but I can hurt you plenty. In fact, that’s the very reason I’m here.”
He stopped in front of her, close enough to make her legs feel unsteady, but she smirked in defiance.
“And what makes you think I’ll let you lay a hand on me?”
“The magic, of course,” he rumbled, leaning forward, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled her scent, and God if that wasn’t hot. “Same magic that stops me from killing you is stopping you from leaving and from killing me, little girl. You know that.”
“Name’s Buffy, and I’m not a little girl,” she spat back, raising a hand—but he stopped it before her blow could reach his cheek, his grip tight.
“Uh-uh-uh,” he said with a lewd smirk. “You’re exactly that, kitten. A little, bad girl who needs to be taught the error of her ways.”
Fuck, but he made that stupid line sound lava-hot. She had to swallow again before she could muster enough strength to get back in her role. “And you’re what, the vamp who’s gonna teach me how to behave?”
He chuckled darkly and then, in a sudden movement, he’d grasped her other wrist and was twisting both of her arms behind her back, making her arch against him, her breasts pressing against his hard chest. “Name’s Spike, and that’s exactly right,” he said, leaning down to breathe in her face. “May not know much about proper behaviour, but I do know about punishment.”
Every nerve ending in her body was screaming, from the ones in her wrists and arms to wherever her body touched his. His shirt buttons scraped against the skin of her belly as she squirmed in his grasp.
“Tell me you’re not enjoying it, you bad girl,” he growled, his hungry blue eyes making it hard not to whimper. “Tell me you don’t love the idea of being punished by the likes of me, on order of the Council, for being a bad, bad slayer.”
She did let out a little sound of choked pleasure then, her hips grinding against his. She felt a spark of triumph when he gasped at the contact. “I’m not the one who’s enjoying this,” she whispered, pressing against his hard shaft through his jeans.
He barked out a laugh and thrust back, hard, touching her clit through the pleats of her skirt, and she let out a whimper. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy every second of this,” he said, his voice low and rumbly and hungry, his eyes roaming her face. “You, on the other hand, are just giving me more reasons to go hard on you.”
He growled, gave a particularly harsh thrust, and then twirled around her to grip her wrists and force her towards the counter. She started breathing hard then, the thrill of him overpowering her making her limbs feel jelly-like and trembly.
“What are you gonna do?” she gasped as he bent her harshly over the glass surface, squishing her breasts against it. “Spank me?”
“Among other things,” the vampire said, voice low and dangerous. “Look at you,” he chuckled darkly as he tugged her forearms straight. “Practically naked and already wet, pussy salivating at me.”
Buffy whimpered, the crude words making her feel impossibly hot and impossibly bad. “You pig—ah!” she yelped when his hand spanked her hard out of the blue.
“Silence, little girl,” he said, and when she looked over her shoulder, he was grinning gleefully. “Gonna teach you some good manners.”
“Thought you didn’t know about those—nnh!” she grunted when he slapped her other cheek even harder, making her ass feel on fire.
“Keep this up and I’ll have to find you a nice gag,” he said, and God, she could still hear the grin.
He bent down and she could hear the noise of something rustling against his clothes. Soon, he was tying her forearms and wrists together with what felt like chains, locking them behind her back.
“What about a nice little cock-shaped gag, mm?” he whispered in her ear, making her shudder and whimper as she squirmed beneath him, the words and the image they evoked making her flush. “Red lips stretched around a nice, fat cock… you telling me you wouldn’t love the idea?” he said, and her heartbeat skyrocketed when she heard him vamping out behind her, his fang grazing the shell of her ear as she squeezed her eyes shut. “You telling me this mouth isn’t as starved for cock as this wet pussy”—he caressed her between her legs, making her spasm beneath him as he groaned—“Christ, you’re fucking dirty, all open like this to the world—”
Spike had leaned back for a moment, just enough to deliver two savage blows to her ass, and she shuddered beneath him, legs squirming as she clenched down on nothing.
He bent down again to whisper roughly in her ear. “Are you green, little girl?”
She nodded quickly, just the idea of pausing this making her frantic.
“Good,” he said, straightening up and hitting her once more, just as hard. “Then that’s ‘Sir’ to you,” he said, his commanding tone sending a shiver all through her body.
Then he spanked her again, and again, until the pain and the burn made her pussy feel on fire. The chains binding her arms squeezed her flesh with delicious tightness, that pain adding to the rest, all seemingly linked directly to her clit.
“Look at the pretty sight you make,” he murmured, his hands stroking her lower cheeks gently before he raked at them with his nails, the sharp sting drawing a helpless sound from her lips. He chuckled, patting her flesh lightly. “Didn’t even have to flip up your skirt, it’s so short,” he said, but then he did just that, the chilled air touching the top of her ass and making her inhale hard. “Now that looks good… spread these golden legs, my bad girl.”
“Make me,” she said in a trembling voice, but he only laughed again. And then she heard some more rustling. “Aanh!” she yelled, a stinging pain making her jump up in surprise. He’d hit her with a freaking leather paddle.
God, he’s really not sparing the strength here, she managed to think before he hit her again, and again and again, the smacking sounds making her moan in pain as well as pleasure, the burn zapping to her clenching pussy every time.
“As you wish,” her tormentor said, far too smug as he delivered hard blows to her ass.
“Oh, oh, uuhn,” she moaned, squirming desperately—until his hand gripped her wrist through the chains, making them dig into her skin more.
“So are you”—smack!—“going to”—smack! — “behave” —smack, smack!— “you bad, bad Slayer?”
“Aaah! Y-yes!” she gasped, her screaming bottom only adding to the already hopeless pulsing of her clit. She’d started to subconsciously rock against the blows, not knowing if she wanted to get more of that damn paddle or just some friction against the counter.
“Mmm, don’t think I heard that, pet.” Smack, smack, smack! “Think you need a magic word there.”
“Oh God, oh God—” Smack! “Please, Sir!”
The vampire chuckled, scraping the edge of the paddle against her burning skin and making her fingers clench hard against the chains that locked her wrists.
“Knew I could get you to say it,” he purred as the paddle left her skin.
She let out a shuddering breath, surprising herself with how much she missed its touch—and then he was gripping her burning flesh, the handle digging into her skin almost as much as his nails, forcing a gasp and a whimper from her parted lips as her clit pulsed and pulsed.
“So are you tamed?” he whispered, leaning down close to her right ear while his left hand kept dragging his nails on her skin. “Are you going to accept your punishment, thanking me for your discipline?”
Buffy let out a small wail at that, pressing her forehead against the glass of the counter as his fingertips razed her wet lips.
She could feel his fang tracing her neck, up to her earlobe, making her shudder in want.
“Still green, kitten?” he whispered, nipping at the soft flesh of her lobe.
She nodded immediately, then turned her head to send him a scalding look. Her heart skipped a beat at the mix of hunger and care in his eyes. She grinned. “All green, Mr. Punisher, Sir,” she said, delighted by the flare of pleasure and pride in his eyes.
“Are you, now,” he drawled, all softness gone as he narrowed his eyes. Then he clenched her ass hard, and she whimpered as she could feel wetness there; he must have drawn blood this time. “Because I seem to remember telling you to open these dirty, dirty legs, Slayer. And you’re still not obeying.”
This time she caved, spreading her legs wider as his hand left her skin—but then he smacked her hard, again and again and again.
“Now lookit that,” he murmured, licking a stripe from shoulder to ear even as he kept raining blows on her burning bottom. “Are you listening to your superior now, you bad girl?”
She moaned, nodding helplessly as she widened her legs even more. But the only thing she really wanted to do was squeeze them to get any sort of stimulation on her poor pussy and clit.
“Yeah, you are,” he whispered in her ear, licking around it and making her head spin. “You’re starting to submit, aren’t you.”
“Uhh, uuhn…” It was official. Her brain had left the premises. Not that she could blame it, really, because honestly the only part of her body she could care about right now was much further south. “Ah!” Except for her earlobe, apparently, when he bit it fiercely enough to draw blood.
As he sucked hard at it, she couldn’t rein in a wail.
“Love the way you sound, you dirty girl,” he murmured in her ear. Then he straightened and smacked her burning bottom once more. “Wider, bad little Slayer.”
She whined, trying her best to comply even though her legs trembled.
He tutted at her before chuckling, the sound going straight to her clit. “You make a right fetching picture like this, kitten. Using your red skin as a canvas, that’s what I’m doing.”
She blinked her eyes open, craning her neck to stare at him. What the hell did he mean?
He must’ve seen a bit of defiance in her gaze, because he smacked her again, twice, hard and fast. “I’m sorry… Sir,” she said, gritting her teeth against the need to arch against the counter, against anything, anything, to get some relief.
Eyes flaring, he licked his lips, and Buffy had to wonder whether she’d submitted too soon. But his voice, his dominance, his damn paddle… it was all too damn hot, too damn much, for her to keep resisting.
So she tried for her best submissive expression: looking down and keeping her voice low, she forced her legs a little bit wider. “I meant to ask… Sir. What did you mean by that?”
There. Minimum stuttering, maximum submission. She risked looking up for a second, just in time to see his damnable tongue touch his teeth in delight.
“Mean that I wish I had a camera to keep this for posterity, you bad minx.” His eyebrows wiggled and he casually spanked her again with the paddle, making her gasp and fight the urge to close her thighs. “Mmh… oh yeah,” he said, admiring his handiwork before smacking her again, this time on the inside of her other thigh.
“Ohh, God,” she whined, her legs trembling hard.
“Think you might need some help to obey, don’t you?” he said slyly, dragging the paddle from her burning inner thigh up, up, until he was grazing her lips, and God God God she couldn’t, she couldn’t—
“Oh, oh, please,” she begged when he started to finally, finally stroke her pussy lips. The paddle was too rough and his movements too slow, but her legs tried to squeeze it between them anyway. God, to finally have something, anything— “No! Please, please don’t stop, nnaa,” she moaned, gasping when he hit her again, the pain somehow sharper where the paddle was wet.
“Oh yeah, you definitely need some help, you bad little girl,” he whispered, making her concentrate on getting her legs back to their wider position. When she was trembling too hard to manage, he bent down to bite her on the shoulder, hard. He’d lost the fangs but she gasped anyway, blinking when he left the paddle on the counter in order to bend down behind her. It was black, but there was a red writing on it… she groaned, the sound hard and low. The blocky letters on it spelled BAD GIRL.
“Like what you see?” the vampire chuckled from next to her knees.
Buffy couldn’t believe how much she actually did wish that he had a camera, just so she could see if the letters were visible on her skin. Had her tormentor actually made her butt into a declaration?
The vampire started caressing her calf, making her skin shiver and tingle. She let out a little moan when he licked the back of her knees.
“Can taste your sweat, your lust, your sheer essence,” he murmured against her skin, making her shiver harder. “Gonna give you just what you deserve… gonna help you be a good girl, kitten,” he said, before biting her hard on the thigh. He must’ve picked a place he’d hit with the paddle, because his blunt teeth burned on her hot skin, and she moaned again. “Now spread these beauties wide, you dirty wench,” he said, and Buffy could hear the gleeful grin as she tried her best to comply.
He chuckled again as he opened them even more, making her pussy feel even emptier.
He let out another laugh at her grunt when he tightened some sort of leather-feeling strap around her upper knee, patting her rump roughly before switching to do the same on the other. And then, when he finally stood up, dragging his hands to cup her ass cheeks with the motion, she realised that she couldn’t move her legs anymore: there was something between them, something that made it impossible for her to either close them or open them more.
“Oh God,” she murmured in a low tone that sounded nothing like a slayer.
The vampire, meanwhile, plastered himself against her back, his hard denim-covered cock rubbing her sore skin and making it burn.
He breathed against her hair, the weight of his chest pressing her arms between them, and inhaled hard before letting out a small, dark chuckle. “Know what I’ve put between these lovely, dirty legs, little slayer?” She squirmed beneath him, but he only thrust harder, silencing her. “Called a spreader bar, it is, you filthy girl,” he whispered, his rough voice making her head spin as he found a scorching rhythm against her poor bottom. “Gonna help you keep all wide and spread for your master. What do you say about that, huh?”
She wanted to whimper, she could feel the need rising. But a flicker of defiance was still burning in her gut, telling her to fight back, to make him work for her submission; the Slayer wasn’t out yet, no sir.
“I say…” she started, her voice thready despite her wishes, “that you should know you’re gonna have to try harder than that.” And then she turned, grinning wickedly when he saw his eyes widen and his nostrils flare.
And then the jerk laughed, which didn’t really soothe her Slayer pride. Digging his nails into her still-stinging flesh, he used the grip to thrust her against his hard cock, again and again, forcing little breathless gasps from her mouth as she tried to fight him when all she wanted was more.
“You bad—dirty—little girl,” he grunted in her ear, tilting his hips just so to hit her clit at every thrust.
She finally whimpered. “Oh God—oh—nnrm, uhn, uuhh!”
“Yeah, baby,” he whispered as she felt him vamp out and nip at her neck, making her eyes squeeze shut in anticipation. “You love being punished, don’t you? You’re—gonna—get it!”
“Aahhnn!” she yelled as he gave one powerful, merciless thrust against her, throwing her almost over the precipice—but then he retreated, making her thrust back into thin air. She moaned at the loss. “No, please, more—”
“Oh, you’ll get more punishment all right,” he muttered, and she could hear the frantic rustle of his clothes. “Gonna paint your ass in come and then show you just how good those smacks are once you’re all—wet—nnh,” he grunted, one of his hands squeezing the chain around her wrists to keep her still.
She still squirmed, wild need making her clit pulse and pulse. It pulsed harder still when she heard the sound of his hand working his cock, and God, she wanted it, she wanted it—
“Nh, nh, uhn, fuck!” he grunted, the sound and the feel of his come on her sending a shiver down her spine.
She almost sobbed when she felt it dribble down on her stinging skin, and God, who knew she’d ever get to this? Role-playing a bad slayer in need of punishment, and that punishment coming—pun definitely intended—in the form of a vampire covering her in come after having almost brought her off.
She tried vainly to squeeze her thighs shut, but the bar between her knees made it impossible. And even that was hot, how she could try and try and yet still do nothing but wait for his punishment.
“God,” she breathed out, trembling when he chuckled again.
“Look at you, all indecently spread and wet.”
She squirmed, trying to close her legs again against her better sense.
“But I’m gonna get you even wetter, I am,” he purred, finally closing the distance between them and oh God, his dick was touching her and she could feel him already hardening. “Gonna use these sweet, drenched lips to get hard again,” he said, dragging his hard cock back and forth against her pussy, making her whole body spasm at the return of stimulation. “Then I’m gonna come on your ass again,” he grunted, his movements quickening and his voice getting lower, even as his damn dick managed to miss her clit entirely. “Then I’m gonna take this lovely juice you’re spreading for me—fffrnn—get it all over this lovely—nnh—rump, and thighs—uunnyeah—and then—”
“Oh God,” she whimpered, his words and the images he was painting making her careen towards an orgasm, clit stimulation or not. “Oh fuck—aaah!” she yelled, as he spanked her thigh hard, and then again, harder still.
“Bad girl,” he grunted, thrusting harder against her before shifting back—and then—
“Oh fuck,” she sobbed as he finally entered her, hard and deep and fast, making her press against the counter so she could thrust her ass against him. “Please, God, please!”
“Name ain’t God,” he grunted, pumping savagely against her as he stretched over her to pick up the paddle. “Say it!” he ordered, starting to rain blows on her left thigh without ever pausing his thrusts.
“Sir, Sir, pleaseennh!”
“Fuck, you tight little wench, squeeze me so good. Nnnh, nrm, nh, harder!” Smack, smack, smack, and she complied. “Oh yeah,” he groaned between strikes, and then he bent over her, one hand wrapping in her hair to wrench her head to the side. “This is punishment, you dirty, bad girl,” he grunted in her ear.
“Ohh Sir,” she whined, clenching harder against him, getting closer still.
“So don’t you—fucking—dare come,” he grunted, before giving a low growl and biting her neck, fangs slicing in her skin, mouth sucking at her hard.
She went wild beneath him, the words a shock to her still-untouched clit, the bite making her eyes roll back in her head as she came and came and came, the waves crashing over her so hard she could hardly push back to seek more.
Spike growled into her flesh, thrusting hard another few frenzied times, before he let go of her neck to roar and shove out of her, the spurts of his come on her abused ass making her pulse again and again. And all along she kept coming, her every inch burning in pleasure and pain.
Finally, he grunted, his chest slumping against her back. She could feel his clothes were still on, his coat flapping either side of her, while she was practically naked and spread open; it made everything all the more illicit and obscene.
God, it didn’t happen often, but she really loved him overpowering her.
She luxuriated in the feeling as best she could. His weight made the chains bite into the skin of her back, yet somehow that only made her clit pulse harder, even as the last of her orgasm flowed through her.
He sighed then, bending his head to lick at her still-bleeding bite mark with long, firm strokes of his tongue. She shivered, wondering for the millionth time whether she really was a bad slayer for loving his fangs on her neck so much. And then the thought made her clench, and really, who cared?
His low chuckle against her skin sent a thrill through her, even as he shifted to relieve her of some weight. She sighed, recognising the little acts of comfort in that and in his tongue wiping her clean.
I love this so much—I love him so much. He’s always got my back, no matter what we do.
“Look at you, sighing all pleasantly when you’ve disobeyed my orders,” he said, his husky voice making her pussy flutter.
She trembled and clenched, wondering whether this was her own, deranged empty-pussy-clenching version of a Pavlovian response.
“You really are a bad slayer who needs punishment,” he whispered silkily, his lips brushing her ear and making her tremble harder. “Unless,” he murmured, licking along her shell and making her gasp as he thrust against her, his swelling cock pressing on her tingling skin. “Unless you want to tell me you’re not feeling green anymore, little girl?”
She stifled a moan, pressing her forehead to the counter glass. For a second, she thought she heard a hint of taunting in his voice, and wondered whether she’d disappoint him if she stopped the scene. Would he tsk at her, see it as a letdown that she’d leave him dissatisfied?
Then she remembered that this was really Spike, not some random vamp tormentor hired by the Council. Yeah, he loved to challenge her, but he wouldn’t respect, love, or admire her any less if she wanted to end the scene here.
And ultimately, that was what rekindled the fire in her, what made her take another, showy deep sigh and grin back at him. “It takes more than that to make a slayer submit, vamp. So why don’t you give it to me? I was promised a punishment.”
She almost regretted the words by the way his eyes and nostrils flared, the way his wicked grin made him look positively devilish. He laughed before licking at her sore skin then biting, his blunt teeth drawing a gasp.
“Gonna love making you beg,” he murmured, his teeth scraping her throbbing skin, “until all you can do is tell me you deserve to be punished, over and over again.”
The words sent her pussy into a frenzy. She already felt the urge to submit… but what else would he come up with, if she kept defying him?
“Promises, promises,” she breathed out, her voice weaker than she would’ve liked. But then his cock twitched against her and, well, she couldn’t blame herself that much.
He laughed again, biting her one more time before he rose, the absence of his weight filling her with both physical relief and a sense of loss.
And then he was picking up the paddle again while he spanked her hard with his free hand. “Get this ass up, you filthy girl.”
“Nnh,” she grunted, trying and failing to arch her back.
He took that as an invitation to go harder, the smack-smack-smack sounds making her clench uselessly as she kept trying to push her ass higher.
“S-Sirnn,” she moaned, his blows coming even harder. “I c-can’t, it’s too—uhn!”
“Too high, you mean?” he asked, almost nonchalant—the stupid jerk—before stopping his hand for a moment. “Then why don’t you get up on your toes, make this ass good and tense for your punishment?”
“Rrrnn,” she grunted as the paddle hit her between thigh and ass cheek, making her see stars. She did her best to obey, lifting herself on her tippy toes. “Aah!”
He hit her again, on the same sensitive spot on her other leg, and she tried to go as far up as she could.
“Better,” he said with an audible grin. “Now thank me for your punishment, you bad Slayer.”
She felt her whole body quiver at the idea, but no, she wasn’t there yet; she still wanted to see how far she could push him. “N-no… thank you, Suuurn!”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!, the paddle went, now on the crease of her buttocks and her thighs, and she had to fight hard against the instinct to escape it—or arch up more to meet it.
“Let’s try again, shall we?” he said, with the hint of a growl. Then he wrapped his right hand in her hair and pulled, making her neck crane back painfully. “I’m gonna give you one very special blow, and if you make any sound other than thanking me for your punishment, I’m gonna give you another three. That clear, you dirty little girl?”
Buffy squirmed beneath him, the will to fight back warring with the urge to just submit already. She only managed to nod as she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the impact, trying to relax her back even as she struggled to keep her ass arched up—
Originally posted at https://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/721243.html